no pandas, sad or otherwise
by ratherembarrassing
Summary: Breadstix delivers, and this is brand new information to Santana.


It's the summer between sophomore and junior year, and they are home from college because Santana has finally been gone long enough to actually maybe, kind of, miss the place. Technically they are house sitting for Santana's parents, but really that means they are dog sitting for Mrs Lopez's my-nest-is-empty puppy.

The dog's name is Mario, and Santana is so embarrassed to be related to this woman sometimes, she can't even bring herself to call him anything other than 'puppy'. He smaller than a basketball and leaves blonde fur all over everything she owns, mixing with the blonde hair Brittany also leaves all over everything.

She's just returned from walking the puppy, sweat trickling down the back of her neck even though it's seven in the evening, and hanging the ridiculously complicated dog lead up on a special hook her father actually installed for this very purpose, when Brittany calls out from her place sprawled on the couch.

"Did you know Breadstix delivers?"

Here's the thing about Brittany: she's pretty laid back about everything. It takes something incredibly special to her to get her worked up, and apparently Breadstix, home delivered to their door, is not one of those things.

There are some things Santana will simply never understand about her girlfriend.

Santana has no problem getting worked up about anything, least of all the greatest news she's heard since her bitch of an ex-roommate dropped out two weeks into the year and Brittany could switch rooms that very day.

"What? Are you fooling around? Britts, you know I love you, and you're hilarious, but this is no joking matter." She had all but leaped over the back of the couch, grabbing the laptop Brittany had perched on her stomach, turning it around to face her where she sat straddling Brittany's legs.

"Not fooling around," Brittany replies, reaching down to scoop Mario up from where he was jumping about beside the couch, re-energized in the face of his temporary carer's excitement. She sits Mario on her chest, letting him immediately begin to lick at her face, despite the fact that she knows Santana hates that.

"Oh my god!" She wonders if they deliver on bike or by car, because they might need more than one delivery boy if it's by bike.

Santana is usually happy to carry on about whatever is stirring her up alone, leaving Brittany to laugh with her - though it's not so secretly a little bit at her, too, but Santana has never minded, not when it's Brittany - or stroke her hair depending on what the situation calls for.

But something on the menu in front of her catches her eye.

"Hey, Britt-Britt," Santana feigns distraction, facing the screen but flicking her eyes over the top to watch Brittany, and oh, ew, she makes a note to make sure Brittany washes her face before she next gets her mack on. "Breadstix does dessert, right?"

"I guess so," Brittany replies, barely paying any attention.

"Breadstix has that awesome ice cream they do for dessert, right?" Santana's walking her down the garden path a little, but she knows Brittany's reaction will be worth it.

"Ahuh." The dog was chewing on her nose at this point.

"So, Breadstix could deliver that awesome ice cream, right?" Santana can hardly contain her own excitement at this point.

"Yeah, sure- wait, what did you say?" Brittany pulls the puppy away from her face, sitting up a little and almost overturning the laptop. "Ice cream delivered?" Her eyes are bugging out.

"Yep," Santana is practically bouncing on Brittany's legs, her grin now given free reign over her face. "Ice cream delivered."

"No waiting for the ice cream truck?"

"No waiting for the ice cream truck."

"Oh my god, Santana, what are you waiting for? Do it right now!" And, oh, that's what she said, but right now she is typing in her Pay Pal password and sending off an order for probably enough food to last them until they have to go back to college. The internet is awesome.

"Fifteen minutes, babe. Then all the ice cream they can carry will be yours."

The puppy and the laptop are shoved to the floor, and Brittany throws herself forward, sending Santana toppling backwards with a shriek.

"Brittany!" She tries to sound indignant, but she's laughing too hard.

"Ice cream!" is pretty much yelled in her face, right before Brittany's own face presses up against hers and, well, so much for avoiding dog slobber. This is totally worth it, though.

"Do you think," Brittany pulls back to ask good five minutes later, "that puppies can eat ice cream?"

…

The best, best, best part about the whole thing? No one to throw them out of their own home when bread sticks become swords.

…

It's much, much later, and Brittany is passed out in a too-much-food-and-sex coma.

Santana is nearly there with her but something is making her back itch. She digs around in the sheets tangled underneath her, finally pulling a broken bread stick free.

And since no one is around to see, she snaps the stick in half and drops one piece down to Mario, who is curled up next to the bed, and pops the other piece in her mouth.

Maybe Breadstix delivers to New York.


End file.
